{"id":14695,"date":"2011-03-14T09:05:03","date_gmt":"2011-03-14T13:05:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/asweetlife.org\/?p=14695"},"modified":"2016-01-05T10:05:12","modified_gmt":"2016-01-05T15:05:12","slug":"coming-home-an-excerpt-from-the-novel-some-kind-of-normal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/asweetlife.org\/?p=14695","title":{"rendered":"Coming Home, An Excerpt From the Novel “Some Kind of Normal”"},"content":{"rendered":"

When I was eight I spent a lazy Saturday lying on my front porch watching a spider spinning his web across the threshold. He climbed up the frame a foot or so and dropped, catching the breeze across to the other side, glimmering silk flowing out behind him. Dropping to the bottom, he attached another strand and then climbed back up, \u2019til he had a lopsided triangle. He did this over and over, each time adding new thread and attaching it with a quick little hook of his back leg. In less than ten minutes, he had himself a fair home waiting for a bug to fly through for lunch. What he got was my mama throwing open the screen door and asking if I was going to fritter away the day like some privileged kid or go weed the garden like she\u2019d asked me twice.<\/p>\n

I never took much time to reflect before now, but all these hours in the hospital since Ashely’s diabetes diagnosis, and without laundry and dishes and chauffeurin\u2019 people around, I got lots of time to think. For some reason that spider from my childhood comes to mind several times. I think we all ain\u2019t nothing but spiders, spinning a web across a doorway. All we see is the living we\u2019re building for ourselves, not realizing that at any minute the world might throw open its door and walk right over us. And all we\u2019ve made is lost.<\/p>\n

And what I think is I never noticed how fragile life is before this drive home. I\u2019m suddenly waiting for the inevitable wrecking of my life. We\u2019re one crazy driver away from a crash. We\u2019re one Luby\u2019s away from a gun-wielding lunatic. We\u2019re one flu away from disease, one miscalculated donut away from death.<\/p>\n

Even with the hospital in the rearview mirror, I can\u2019t believe we\u2019re going home. I can\u2019t believe we passed the tests. For three days we calculated the carbs in Ashley\u2019s food. We figured the insulin needed. We learned how to put new lancets in the insulin pen Ashley will use for three of the four shots a day. We successfully poked the orange. They patted us on the back, handed us a fistful of prescriptions, and sent us out the door.<\/p>\n

Still, I\u2019d have stayed in the hospital another year for the security of knowing someone would be there if \u2019n we messed up.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>I let Ashley pick out the music, and she enjoys the freedom of sitting in the front seat and flipping through the stations. She finds one playing country and settles back to listen, staring out the window all quiet-like. The dry grass fields pass like a memory, and we drive without talking, aware of our tentative hold on life.<\/p>\n

She breaks the silence with a question. \u201cIf I\u2019m on a plane that goes down over the ocean, you know, like on that TV show, I\u2019m going to die aren\u2019t I? Because I need insulin. I won\u2019t even have the chance to eat bugs and build a fire to try and survive, will I?\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve been expecting the reality of living with this disease to hit her eventually, but this ain\u2019t the question I expect. I expect something along the lines of, \u201cCan I still eat pizza with the kids in the band after football games?\u201d I expect, \u201cIf I don\u2019t eat the mashed potatoes, can I have the Oreos, \u2019cause they\u2019re the same amount of carbs.\u201d I don\u2019t expect no plane crash.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think that\u2019s the silliest thing I\u2019ve ever heard,\u201d I say. \u201cIf you\u2019re on a plane that goes down over the ocean, you got bigger problems than insulin.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut what if I do?\u201d<\/p>\n

I want to point out that livin\u2019 in the middle of Texas with no water closer than Town Lake ain\u2019t likely to get her over the ocean, but I realize she\u2019s seen her web too close to the door, too. \u201cWell,\u201d I say, twisting my face into a serious expression, as if I\u2019m really considering this. \u201cIf you go on a plane trip, maybe you make sure you take extra insulin on board with you. That way, if you go down, you\u2019ll have enough until you\u2019re rescued.\u201d<\/p>\n

This seems to satisfy her for a few minutes. She watches the fields fly by out the window. Then she says, \u201cWhat if I want to be a cheerleader?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou hate cheerleaders.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not the point. What if I decide I want to be one? Can I do that with diabetes?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you want to?\u201d I look at her sideways and wonder if the disease has affected her brain. Will she be a different person now? Has this changed who she is?<\/p>\n

\u201cNo way.\u201d She looked out the window instead of at me, which is good because I almost snort in relief. \u201cBut if I did. If I changed my mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

My heart aches with the squeezing of her life into something smaller than the world she knew a few days ago.<\/p>\n


\n<\/span><\/p>\n

[youtube]http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=gsuE9hG1tPk&feature=player_embedded#at=70[\/youtube]\n

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